


All I wanna get is a little bit closer

by ryankellycc



Series: Burning Deep, Burning Bright [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Crush at First Sight, Gen, Hufflepuff Hinata, M/M, Quidditch, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-02-28 11:22:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13270407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryankellycc/pseuds/ryankellycc
Summary: After a scrimmage match against some Hogwarts house players, Kageyama Tobio, the seeker for the Japanese National Quidditch team, has a bone to pick with an orange-haired beater in yellow robes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE THIS AU, DON'T MIND MEEEEE.
> 
> I don't think you have to read the other stories in this series to get this one (I am biased and would love you to read them but not necessary), so if you don't, it's set after a Saturday scrimmage at Hogwarts between the Japanese National Quidditch Team (on which Kageyama, a Mahoutokoro drop-out, is the seeker) and selected Hogwarts house players (on which Hinata is a beater from Hufflepuff). 
> 
> Title is from Closer, Tegan and Sara.

Kageyama had seen good Quidditch players. 

You couldn’t get through your first year at Mahoutokoro without facing someone that had quicker hands, or sharper eyes, and, even as you moved up, you were constantly challenged by the students below you.

He had followed the Toyohashi Tengu since he was old enough to speak, so he knew there were talented people in the Champion's League despite only having played one match, right after he dropped out of school. Those were the worst months of his life, and for the first time in his life he questioned his relationship with Quidditch, not the fact that he loved it but the fact that maybe he wasn't sure of his exact place in the world. Luckily, he didn't have to think too hard on it because the Japanese National Team recruited him, even after everything that had happened with the Tengu, and with each passing day he was more and more confident, in Quidditch, in his team, in himself. 

In spite of his growing confidence, there was always the niggling at the back of his mind, that there was so much he didn’t understand, and the memory of those months in the Champion's League followed him around like a specter. He had a feeling that the anxiety would never go away, but he had gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing and now that he was fortunate enough to play with and against the best Quidditch players in the world, he could focus solely on Quidditch and ignore whatever happened in the cobwebbed corners of his psyche. Playing with the best Quidditch players in the world also meant that he knew what talent looked like and he thought, after so many years of playing, he knew where and when to expect it. So, when Coach told they’d be scrimmaging with a random team of Hogwarts house players, Kageyama went into it with his usual level of enthusiasm for the sport but without expectations for the students they'd be up against. 

He wasn’t prepared to be surprised, especially not by some nameless beater with outrageous orange-red hair in floppy yellow robes. 

Kageyama had never seen anyone fly like that guy. His body complemented his broomstick perfectly and he was able to catch the wind like he controlled it. He had never seen anyone hit like that yellow-robed stranger either, not one beater in Mahoutokoro, the Champion's League, or nationally. He fully admitted that science wasn’t his forte, but he couldn’t understand the physics behind the guy's impressive swings and lithe frame and he hated it.

The thing that got to Kageyama the most was that the guy’s talent was so unpolished you could cut yourself on it, and he came to the reasonable conclusion that any talent the guy had was more instinctual than learned.

It pissed him off. 

It pissed him off so intensely that he found the annoying bastard right after the match and confronted him without even caring that the guy might not speak Japanese. 

Kageyama scowled and spit as he growled, told the stranger, who was shorter than he expected, which was yet another surprise, that he was wasting his talent stuffed away on a school team, but the idiot just stared at him. The guy's brown eyes caught the sun and glittered like the light reflecting off Mahoutokoro’s ancient pillars as they bored holes through Kageyama’s skull. 

Everyone else always shrunk back when he yelled, but yellow-robes guy didn’t. Yellow-robes guy stood his ground, gripped the handle of his broomstick with white knuckles and shouted back in perfect Japanese. He said that the next time he’d win and he’d show Kageyama. His dumb eyes shone the whole time he spoke.

Dumb, shiny eyes for a dumbass. 

After the match, while they changed, Kageyama broke down and asked Daichi who the dumb yellow-robes guy was, but his captain didn’t know. He did, however, mention that Nishinoya had gone to Hogwarts and they might've met. Half-dressed, Kageyama strode across the tent and confronted Nishinoya before he could think better of it, making sure to used his preferred title. As soon as Kageyama said "senpai," Nishinoya exploded with words and gestures. Somehow, Kageyama made out that the guy’s name was Hinata Shouyou and that he was in his final year at Hogwarts. Everything else was lost on him, but he didn't think it mattered. 

The very next day, Kageyama used his free time to march to Hogwarts. He stood on the perfectly manicured grounds in front of the castle and cursed himself for not having a plan, for not having slept because every time he closed his eyes he saw Hinata's face. He knew his face burned with embarrassment and he was just about to turn away when someone shouted his name. 

“Kageyama?! From the match?? Helloooo?”

Hinata bustled toward him, his arms full of books haphazardly strung together. Important-looking parchment fluttered out of the pile, but Hinata ignored the trail of papers behind him.

“What’re you doing here?” He said, slightly out of breath. “Shouldn’t you be practicing or something?”

“Obviously we get breaks,” Kageyama huffed, surprised enough that the whole encounter was actually happening that he didn’t consider what came out of his mouth.

“I was just asking! So what’re you doing here anyway?”

Kageyama clenched his jaw shut before he said something he’d regret, but he wasn’t quick enough to fill the empty space between them and Hinata tapped his feet.

“Okay…” Hinata said, glancing at the door. “While you're scowling do you want to come in? Unless you'd rather stay out here like a weirdo?”

Kageyama growled at the insult, but followed Hinata, who didn’t seem at all fazed by his appearance, inside. As they wound through hallways and smirking portraits, and climbed staircases that rumbled beneath their feet, Kageyama's eyes were drawn in a million different directions. He hated himself for craning his neck like a tourist, but it was breathtaking, perhaps not in the same way Mahoutokoro was, but Hogwarts had its own charm in abundance. 

While they walked, Hinata kept talking, and Kageyama was so focused on every single detail of the castle that when Hinata stopped without warning, Kageyama crashed into him. 

“Geez! Watch it!” Hinata scoffed, brushing imaginary dirt off himself and casting a sharp glare at Kageyama. “Do you actually have anything in that giant head of yours??”

Kageyama sputtered. “My head isn’t big!”

“It totally is,” Hinata snorted. 

“Is not. Your head is just small.”

“My head is NOT small.”

“Too small for a brain.”

“You’re just jealous because you have a big head, Kageyama-kun!” 

Kageyama shuddered. “God, gross.”

“Well what’s better? King of the pitch?”

Kageyama tensed and the air around them changed immediately. “Don’t call me that.”

Hinata cocked his head and opened his mouth, like he was about to talk, but nothing happened. He scanned Kageyama’s face and after a beat he gave Kageyama a small shrug and said, “okay, I won’t.”

He wasn’t sure whether it was the shock from hearing his old nickname in the mouth of a stranger, or the fact that Hinata dropped the conversation without question, or just the simple fact that Hinata talked to him like they knew each other, but Kageyama was hit with a burst of clarity. He was in a new place with a complete stranger and decidedly out of his comfort zone. His fretting was only made worse by the horrible realization that he liked the way Hinata’s fiery curls bounced around his face when he moved. 

The only option was to get out of there, and get out fast.

Kageyama sent a quick prayer into the universe to help him find his way out and turned on his heels to leave, but he was held back by a firm grip on his arm, the sanm. 

“Let go of me.”

“No way!” Hinata shrieked. “You’re the one who was waiting outside the castle and followed me in like a creep and NOW you want to up and leave?”

Kageyama tried to shake his arm out of Hinata’s grip, but he was strong, beater-strong.

“I’m meeting my friends for lunch and they’re gonna be so stoked that you’re here!” 

He had only gone on this harebrained adventure to find Hinata, and he had found him (to what end Kageyama still didn't know), which meant that any other variables in the equation were useless, so he tried pulling away again, but Hinata tightened his grip and eyed him suspiciously. “You might be amazing in the air, but you're super stubborn,” he said, puffing a breath in frustration. 

Kageyama had received his fair share of legitimate compliments over the years, but, for some reason, none of them made his heart speed up the way Hinata’s half-assed, backhanded comment did. The whole situation was starting to make his head hurt.

“You’re the stubborn one,” Kageyama muttered, motioning to where Hinata had his fingers around his arm. 

“Well you're definitely more stubborn!” Hinata shouted back. 

Kageyama felt Hinata’s grip slack for just a moment and ripped his arm away, but Hinata slipped in front of him and blocked him from leaving.

“And you’re dumb for not accepting my invitation!”

“What invitation?” Kageyama asked, pausing his evasive maneuvers just long enough to ask the question.

“You weren’t paying attention!?” 

“Of course I wasn’t paying attention, you were talking too much!” Kageyama spit.

“Says the guy who walked around Hogwarts with his jaw dragging on the ground!”

Kageyama lunged forward and Hinata yelped as he dodged Kageyama’s hand and ducked out of the way a second before Kageyama was able to grab him. He continued to elude Kageyama’s strikes. 

“How are you so goddamn slippery?!”

Hinata laughed and stuck his tongue out. “What, afraid you’ll get tired, Bakayama?”

“Never!”

Despite the assertion, Kageyama dropped his hand. Hinata had moved in front of the doors, which meant that the hallway from which they came was free from obstacles. He had the opportunity to leave, but Kageyama found himself frozen in space, shoulders square with Hinata’s. 

“Look," Hinata said, looking sheepish, you don’t have to come in with me if you don’t want to.”

“Says the person who didn’t let go of my arm until a minute ago.”

Hinata threw his hands up in the air. “I thought it would be cool to hang out because you’ve never been here and the food’s good and it’s Sunday, and you're you and just, ugh!”

Kageyama scowled in an attempt to discourage himself from etching every detail of Hinata’s pout into the folds of his memory. He was almost grateful that their standoff was cut short by the embarrassingly loud growl that erupted from his stomach, even if it exposed him. 

“Aha!" Hinata said, pointing at Kageyama's gut. "You’re hungry! Now stop being stupid and come! Get! Food!” Hinata shouted with each step as he got behind Kageyama and pushed him toward the doors.

They had just met the day before, but Hinata was manhandling him like it was second nature and for whatever reason Kageyama's competitiveness rose in turn. He leaned back on his heels and, with a movement too fluid to be human, Hinata slid out from under him and Kageyama fell, catching himself at the last minute with an undignified yelp. Hinata had the audacity to snort and it echoed off the walls, making the people in the portraits giggle with him. Kageyama’s face burned.

Hinata held his stomach as his laughter ebbed and he wiped a tear from his eye. “Leave it to a genius seeker to come out of that without falling on their ass! You came real close though!”

“I wasn’t going to fall!”

“It sure looked like you were going to!”

Kageyama didn’t have anything to say to that, and Hinata rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

“So… I’m starving,” Hinata said, “and you are too, apparently, so I’m going to go in, and you should come, if you think you can handle it.”

Challenge issued, Hinata pushed through the massive, elaborately carved doors and disappeared without looking back.

Something bitter rose in Kageyama’s throat as he looked at the empty space where Hinata had just been, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to go in when he pushed open the doors. He still wasn’t sure that he wanted to be there when he followed Hinata to a table, and he definitely wasn’t sure of anything at all as he sat down on the bench next to him, close enough that their thighs touched under the massive wooden table. 

Kageyama looked around when they were seated and realized with a start they were in the main hall, and neither the warmth of Hinata’s skin through his cloak nor his prior embarrassment was enough to keep him from gazing up at the ceiling. 

He’d seen pictures and heard countless stories about the enchanted ceiling at Hogwarts, but the real thing was something else entirely. He felt ridiculous again, and knew he looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The silvery wisps of clouds tumbled lazily over their heads and passed through the sun, bright and luminous and shimmering. He itched to get on a broomstick despite his rational mind reminding him that he'd just crash into the building.

“It’s awesome, right?”

Kageyama acknowledged Hinata with a quick nod, but kept his eyes up. _It was all so stupid_ , he thought to himself. It was stupid how sitting next to Hinata under the fake Hogwarts sky felt like a dream he’d never had.

Hinata nudged Kageyama in the ribs. “Oh! My friends are here!” 

In his mind’s eye, Kageyama knew that Hinata had told him they would be meeting his friends, but he had been so caught up in Hogwarts and Hinata and the damn magic sky that it hadn’t registered the thought until that very second. He tore his eyes away from the ceiling and tensed his shoulders like he was bracing for impact.

“Guys!” Hinata shrieked, beckoning over a couple of guys in the same yellow robes and grabbing Kageyama’s red ones, “look who it is!”

“Holy shit! It’s Kageyama Tobio!” 

“Whoa!”

Hinata's friends sat across from them and the three of them erupted in chatter as they went over the scrimmage in enough detail that Kageyama thought it was happening. Then, the discussion turned to Kageyama and his Quidditch career. He knew his own stats, and knew that other people knew, but the way these guys talked about his plays, matches, and career made him wonder if was possible for any one person to pay attention to themselves like that.

Kageyama just nodded along with them as they talked and eventually loosened up his shoulders, but his eyes kept going back to Hinata.

When one of the guys brought up a particularly daring catch, Hinata was the one that exploded with pride. 

When someone criticised one of Kageyama’s pauses in game, Hinata was the first to explain that there was a plan. 

When Hinata wasn’t sure of what a particular pass was called, he badgered Kageyama into reminding him. 

Kageyama paid more and more attention to Hinata as he gesticulated wildly, knocking into Kageyama’s side, hitting his friend’s books, and pushing quills off the table, until it felt like his body was re-calibrated to sense each one of Hinata's movements. At one point, Hinata whipped his hand back with such reckless abandon that he hit himself in the forehead, and Kageyama snorted, but the slight exhale wasn’t enough. Peals of laughter bubbled up from deep in his lungs and broke over his lips like waves. He allowed himself to let go, and when his laughter subsided enough that his chest stopped heaving, he opened his eyes, fully intending on pointing out how dumb Hinata was, but he couldn’t open his mouth, couldn't blink. 

For the first time in their acquaintance, Hinata was completely still, like the entire world stopped when Hinata did. 

Hinata looked at him with his mouth slightly ajar. His eyes were impossibly wide and his cheeks were flushed so fully that the blush dripped down his neck and disappeared under his collar. He didn’t look away, and Kageyama held his gaze until one of his friends sent a quill flying toward them.

“Hey! Earth to Hinata!”

The other friend clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth. “Did you even offer Kageyama any food yet?” 

It looked like it took a sincere amount of effort for Hinata to turn away, but once he did, Hinata jumped away from Kageyama, hands in the air like he had been burned. “Right! Food! Going!” He got up from the bench, jerking himself violently enough that his wand fell out of his robes and clattered to the ground.

Kageyama bent down to pick it up and his hand hovered over the magical object. It had small knots everywhere, like the freckles on Hinata’s face, and the wood was marbled with more colors than Kageyama could identify. It was different than a lot of wands Kageyama had seen, and his own wand was almost the complete opposite. 

“You gonna pick up my wand or stare at the ground all day, Bakayama?”

He swiped it off the ground and pushed it into Hinata’s chest so hard he staggered backwards. “Just freaking take it.”

Hinata rolled his eyes and scampered away, and Hinata’s friends pulled Kageyama right back into conversation. They introduced themselves formally as Kouji and Izumi, called Hinata an airhead (which made the corners of Kageyama's mouth lift), and the conversation returned to common ground: Quidditch. Kageyama was actually enjoying himself until one of them, though Kageyama had already forgotten, changed the subject with a mischievous smile.

“You know, you're the only thing Hinata's been talking about since yesterday.”

“Of course,” Kageyama said cautiously, assuming that he'd been fired up about the pratice match. “The Japanese National Team is highly ranked?”

“No no, Kageyama,” the other said gently, “he talks about YOU.”

Kageyama didn’t like the way the two of them were smiling across the table, like they expected something, and he didn’t like the way his heart flip-flopped right into his throat, making it hard for him to do anything other than gurgle awkwardly.

Of course, Hinata skipped back to the table at that exact moment. 

“Food’ll appear in a sec, wait,” Hinata paused, sensing the shift in conversation and eyeing his friends. “What were you guys talking about?”

“How annoying you are,” Kageyama croaked, hoping he could goad Hinata into a fight and forget the last ten seconds had happened. 

Hinata’s friends had other plans. 

“Well, first we introduced ourselves because you forgot,” the one with spiky black hair said. “And then we told Kageyama about your giant Quidditch crush on him.”

“And he didn’t seem super weirded out, so maybe you have a chance after all!”

Hinata shrieked. “You guys!”

“You’re welcome!”

“Kouji!”

Hinata reached across the table to swipe at the one with spiky black hair, but he couldn’t reach and Kageyama would’ve pointed out that he was too short to fight back but he couldn’t move a single muscle in his body and the only thing that throbbed behind his eyes was _crush_.

Everyone else was distracted from the conversation when the food appeared, but Kageyama, still frozen in place, stared at the overflowing plates until Hinata pushed one of them directly in front of him.

“Staring’s not the same as eating, unless you can eat with your eyeballs.”

Kageyama rolled his eyes and brought a hot piece of bread to his lips, focusing on the way it melted on his tongue rather than the way Hinata’s cheeks puffed out like a hamster when he ate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is hounded by thoughts of Hinata and doesn't know how to handle them. He finds an unexpected source of comfort in a teammate.

After they had finished eating, Hinata hit Kageyama will all of his energy like a blast from a high-powered weapon.

_There’s an empty practice pitch just outside!_

Kageyama knew there was an empty pitch; he had walked past it on his way to the castle. He didn’t need some idiot pointing it out to him. 

_I can definitely get a Snitch and maybe even a whole trunk._

He didn’t have any frame of reference for the ease in which a student could horde an entire Quidditch trunk to themselves, but the look of determination on Hinata’s face might’ve convinced him that anything was possible. 

_Bakayama, stop making that dumb jerk face!_

Hinata’s face had morphed into what Kageyama could only assume was an impression of his own face, Hinata’s brow unnaturally furrowed and an exaggerated scowl tugged at his lips. 

“I don’t make that face,” Kageyama muttered to himself unconvincingly between heavy breaths. 

_Why else did you come all the way down here?!_

Kageyama looked down at the tips of his boots as he walked, appearing in front of him and then disappearing under him. He didn’t have an answer for Hinata, or himself, but Hinata had to let him go and Kageyama rushed back to Hogsmeade. Even if he had wanted to stay, (which, for the record, he most certainly did not) the memory of what happened to Tanaka after the last time he showed up late to one of Daichi’s meetings sent a cold chill down Kageyama’s spine. 

On the way back to The Three Broomsticks, Kageyama wondered what he would’ve done if he hadn’t been scheduled to meet with the rest of the team. He knew why Hinata would want to play with him, but in what universe would he practice with Hinata? What good could it have possibly done him? Why _did_ he set out to find Hinata in the first place?

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Hinata might’ve been stuck in his brain like a piece of food between his teeth, but they were leaving the next morning and he wouldn’t ever see Hinata again. He attempted to put Hinata and his stupid face and his stupid orange hair out of his mind. Except, when Kageyama tried to force Hinata out, the scenery around him disappeared and all he could see were yellow robes, pink cheeks, hazel eyes, brown freckles and orange hair. His image blazed like wildfire behind his eyelids and heat pricked its way through Kageyama’s arms and legs.

He slowed down a block from the The Three Broomsticks to take slow, deep breaths until his heart stopped punching against the inside of his ribcage and entered the inn with just a minute to spare, ignoring the questioning looks shot in his direction.

Daichi’s meeting started exactly on time, much to everyone’s relief, and Kageyama sunk into his seat. 

He listened as Daichi opened with one of his motivational speeches. He never had trouble focusing on anything Quidditch-related, but that afternoon he struggled. Somehow Hinata had weaseled his way in and woven himself into every thread of Kageyama’s thoughts and, short of knocking himself on the head and causing a scene, he didn’t know how to make them stop. 

When Daichi asked them to remember the practice matches that they were supposed to watch, Kageyama wondered if Hinata had seen those matches. 

Kuroo interrupted Daichi and mentioned a formation he saw France deploy in their most recent match, and Kageyama considered putting Hinata in the French Beater’s position. Would Hinata have been quick enough to redirect the Bludger that clipped the French Chaser? 

Ukai used his wand to bring up their match with the Hogwarts students and moved the marks through the air, demonstrating some of the trickier maneuvers that Hogwarts had pulled over on them. Kageyama watched the characters of Hinata’s name like he had been the only one in the match. 

That night, after the meetings and practice and dinner, Kageyama laid in bed, but he was restless. His body screamed for sleep but none of his usual relaxation techniques had worked, not his practice Snitch, not their play recordings, not even the newest issue of Seeker Weekly, and he was just beginning to despair when familiar voices floated through the wall. 

When they had been given their room assignments the month before, Kageyama had been elated to find out that he would get his own room but his joy had lasted about as long as it took for lightning to crack. Nishinoya Yuu and Yamamoto Taketora had been assigned the room next to his and he had felt like their hoots and hollers would follow him around and haunt his dreams for the next few years. 

He respected his teammates and their talents, but Nishinoya and Yamamoto talked like the world was about to end and no walls could contain their enthusiasm, not even the centuries-old stone of The Three Broomsticks. Each night they had spent there, their muffled words had forced themselves through the thick stone walls and piled into Kageyama’s head like unwanted guests, and Kageyama had become accustomed to sleeping with a pillow shoved against each of his ears. 

As he listened that night, however, the solitude he normally craved felt like water surging through his lungs and his teammates’ voices felt like hands coming out of the dark to rescue him. He cast the extra pillow aside and inched closer to the wall. 

Kageyama woke up with a start. The door next to his opened and shut, and he recognized Nishinoya’s light footsteps on the creaky floors as he scurried down the stairs. He checked the time and blinked at the clock until his brain registered that it was just before dawn. They were scheduled to go back to Japan but not for another few hours at least. Kageyama listened for another door to open, but nothing happened. No one else stirred. 

His confusion, made worse by his late night and stupidly early wake up call, and curiosity took hold and Kageyama jumped out of bed and into the hallway. He stood outside of Nishinoya and Yamamoto’s door and wrapped his arms around himself to combat the morning chill. 

His mind blanked and, suddenly, he felt stupid. Just as he turned on his heels to go back to his room, the door swung open and a burst of air from the force Yamamoto used to open it blew Kageyama’s hair from where it usually hung on his forehead. 

While Kageyama stared at him in shock, Yamamoto stood firmly planted on the other side with a shark-like grin lighting up each one of his features. His smile dropped slightly upon seeing him and Kageyama gave serious consideration to exactly how weird it would be to just run back to his room and hide there until Daichi forced him out. 

Luckily, before he could come to a conclusive decision on the acceptable levels of social stigma he’d be willing to endure, Yamamoto pulled Kageyama down a couple inches and rubbed his head, further messing up his hair. 

“Yamamoto-san,” Kageyama said, backing away from Yamamoto’s grasp to bow. “Sorry to wake you.”

“Kageyama-kun! There’s no bowing allowed this early in the morning, dude,” Yamamoto chided. “And you didn’t wake me, so no sweat, but damn it’s cold out here!” he said in loud whisper, a shiver racking his body. “Come in! Warm up!”

He beckoned Kageyama into the room and Kageyama straightened up as he entered. They were leaving soon, but it didn’t look like either he or Nishinoya had packed a single thing. It looked like they had been living there for months instead of a week.

“So,” Yamamoto started, running his hand through his flattened mohawk to fluff it. Despite how early it was, he looked wide awake. “What’s up? You good?”

“Uh,” Kageyama grunted. His visit wasn’t within the normal confines of their professional relationship, throwing him off guard, so he cleared his throat to gain some conversational traction. “I heard Nishinoya leave and thought something happened?”

Yamamoto let out a long breath and patted his stomach. “I told him to be quiet,” he chuckled. “Nothing happened other than him going out to get his man! Er, at least he’s gonna see if his man is gonna fly again. Fingers crossed,” he said as he made the motion with his index and pointer fingers. 

“He’s getting a man? Who’s flying?” 

“You didn’t know about the Azumane situation?”

“No?” 

“You didn’t notice Yuu sneaking off every time he got the chance?”

Kageyama rubbed the back of his head and looked down at the wooden floor. He hadn’t, but that made sense. He had convinced himself a long time ago that what his teammates did outside of Quidditch wasn’t important, but couldn’t remember for the life of him why.

“Oh boy,” Yamamoto sighed as he pulled Kageyama down on Nishinoya’s bed next to him. He reached over him to get to the bedside table and pushed a pile of papers out of the way, revealing a small red folder that he opened on his lap. “Have I got a story for you.”

“Yamamoto-san, are you sure this is okay?” Kageyama asked, averting his eyes from the open folder on Taketora’s lap. 

“Dude, he shows everyone who comes within a foot of it. I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t shown you yet. Just take a quick peek at least. It’ll help explain.”

Kageyama swallowed hard, but did as he was told and leaned over Yamamoto’s shoulder. The thick red cardboard held at least ten hand-cut moving pictures of varying shapes and sizes, all of them focused on the same guy playing Quidditch. The subject looked different from picture to picture, like Kageyama was watching him grow up in real time. He frowned, anxiety blooming in the pit of his stomach. “Is Nishinoya some kind of stalker?”

Yamamoto threw his head back and howled, startling Kageyama. He had never heard Yamamoto laugh like that, or anyone for that matter. Yamamoto sucked in deep breaths to compose himself, wiped a tear from his eye and brought a large, wide palm down on Kageyama’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna have to save that one for a rainy day. Man that’s good. Anyway, yeah, I guess it’s a little weird, but nothin’ like that,” Yamamoto explained. “He’s been following the guy’s career since he was in school. The guy in the pictures, Azumane, was about to go pro, signed with Bulgaria and everything, but then he disappeared like that,” Yamamoto said with a snap of his fingers. “Yuu didn’t think he’d ever see him again, but the world works in mysterious ways! Would you believe the dude’s here?”

Kageyama waded through Yamamoto’s words with uncertainty and remained silent.

“No joke,” Yamamoto continued. “Yuu saw him working at that bakery down the street, you know, the pink one? Damn good scones, even if the decorations make your eyes hurt.”

Kageyama’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. He vaguely remembered the bakery, but he was caught in imagining having the chance to play professional Quidditch and throwing it away to work, or to do anything else. The guy must’ve been serious about Quidditch, too, if he had been scouted and signed. Kageyama took a closer look at the pictures and the guy’s blood red robes struck a note. The guy, Azumane, must’ve played for Durmstrang. Bulgaria almost exclusively scouted from Durmstrang, so that made sense, but Nishinoya had gone to Hogwarts, and the schools rarely interacted, so how did Nishinoya even find the guy in the first place?

He didn’t realize that he was thinking out loud until Yamamoto hummed in response. 

“Not sure how Yuu found out about him first, you could ask, but we forget how small the world is sometimes. Or I do at least. Anyway, Yuu’s been cutting corners to see him. I thought Daichi-san’s eyes were gonna glaze over permanently the last time he snuck off! That guy’s gonna have an aneurysm if he doesn’t find a way to chill out,” Yamamoto rambled.

“So,” Kageyama said, cutting him off. “Nishinoya left early to see him, er, the bakery guy?” 

“Yup,” Yamamoto said, beaming, hand still on Kageyama’s shoulder. He squeezed. “And today’s the day we find out if Yuu’s gonna play next week.”

Kageyama felt his chest tighten. It was one thing to talk about whatever Nishinoya did in his spare time, but another when his actions bled into Quidditch. “What?”

“Oh, ah,” Yamamoto said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. “Oops? I thought everyone knew, but if you didn’t know about him sneakin’ off, then you wouldn’t know about-”

“Know what?” Kageyama interrupted. 

“Well… Yuu told Daichi-san he wasn’t gonna play in the match next week until he figured something out, and that something was whether or not Azumane was gonna pick up a broomstick and fly again after all this time. Cuttin’ it a little close, eh?”

Kageyama sat back on the bed. Nishinoya put the entire team aside for some guy? He could lose his standing as a starter, it could affect his career, Daichi could boot him off the team, they could lose their match, go down in the rankings, lose sponsorships. 

How could one person weigh down the side of a scale so completely that even Quidditch couldn’t balance it? 

“The things we do for love,” Yamamoto said wistfully. 

The words felt like a slap across Kageyama’s face from a hand shaped like the memory of orange hair, soft bread, and warm thighs against his under a table. “None of this makes sense,” Kageyama said sharply. “They just met.”

“I mean, Yuu’s followed him forever, but you’re right.” Yamamoto admitted. “They didn’t know each other, but sometimes there’s a spark, yeah? Like, turns out the other guy had been following Yuu’s career too.”

“A spark,” Kageyama repeated flatly.

Yamamoto nodded enthusiastically. “I get it, sounds dumb but it’s like when you meet someone and you feel like you’ve gotta do whatever it takes to be near them.” 

Kageyama sucked in a panicked breath. Had Yamamoto found out about Hinata? Could he read minds? Why was he getting flustered when words like _love_ and _spark_ were thrown around?

“That’s what happened to me at least,” Yamamoto said quietly. Kageyama’s head jerked toward him. “No explosions like Yuu and Azumane, just a little spark, a feeling in my gut that made everything and nothing make sense at the exact same time.”

“The spark... happened to you?” Kageyama asked, just to clarify that Yamamoto hadn’t, in fact, used some stealth Legilimency on him. 

Yamamoto’s smile took up the entire lower half of his face. “Amazing, right? Me? I can’t say much, cuz if he knew I was getting sappy he’d lock me out of the apartment when I tried to get in later. I don’t know how he’d know, but he would. He’s smarter than anyone, almost too smart.”

“He?” Kageyama asked, ignoring Yamamoto’s cheery gushing.

Yamamoto shut his mouth so forcefully his jaw clicked and straightened his shoulders. All of a sudden, Kageyama was confronted by the bulk of one of the league’s best Beaters.

“Sorry,” Kageyama said quickly.

“As long as you’re cool, I’m cool,” Yamamoto said, his face stern.

“I’ve just never thought about it,” Kageyama admitted, and Yamamoto nodded, relaxing his features.

Yamamoto didn’t ask Kageyama to clarify what he meant by ‘it’, but Kageyama wasn’t as relieved as he thought he’d be. He wasn’t sure why his brain was still rattling in his skull, whether he was surprised by the fact that Yamamoto was living with someone, or if that someone was a man, or if he was feeling unfamiliar guilt for not having ever asked. He hadn’t ever considered having a girlfriend, or boyfriend, or that living arrangements could be anything more than where he stuck his stuff when he wasn’t playing Quidditch. A small, treacherous part of his brain wondered if Hinata thought about that stuff. 

They lapsed into silence and Kageyama took the opportunity to look at Yamamoto, to really look at him, the man who had played by his side for over a year. A smile lingered on his lips as he fingered the corner of the faded folder of pictures and his cheeks were flush with pink. His thick eyelashes batted against his cheeks as he looked down at the pictures. Yamamoto Taketora, professional Beater, all muscle and mohawk and sharp teeth, looked bashful. Cute. Kageyama blushed at the thought.

“Seriously though, you’re not weird about the gay thing, right?” 

Kageyama shook his head even though Yamamoto wasn’t looking. “No,” he said, louder than the meant and, in a quieter voice, added, “not until you mentioned it, honestly.”

Yamamoto rubbed his chin, patting Kageyama on the back with a grin. “Better late than never, my young kouhai.”

His hand felt strong against Kageyama’s back, and Kageyama was tempted to lean into it for support as the waves of their conversation lapped at his brain. 

In the back of his mind, he heard Nishinoya’s footsteps on the stairs, but neither of them reacted until their missing teammate burst through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie, back again. Life is crazy atm, but I have an actual idea where I want this story to go (finally). The idea is still not fully flushed out, but I'm trying to enjoy pantsing a story for the first time. No clue when the next update will be, but I'm gonna try to get one up within the next month.

**Author's Note:**

> TBC????
> 
> Honestly, I don't have an outline or anything for this, because it was supposed to be a one shot, but I'm going to leave the chapter count open. There's a lot left open for these two in this particular AU that I'd like to chew on, so hopefully see you next time? At some point? Maybe???
> 
> Thank you for reading and indulging me!


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